


Stake-Out

by ToPerceiveIsToBePerceptive



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adoribull - Freeform, Dirty Talk, First Kiss, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Mild Language, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Relationship, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Tension, Slow Build, Unhealthy ways of dealing with emotions, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-03-19 18:03:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3619209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToPerceiveIsToBePerceptive/pseuds/ToPerceiveIsToBePerceptive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian and Iron Bull are sent on a series of stake-outs. Take a wild guess how well they get on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Night One

‘Don’t take this the wrong way. I like the boss. He’s doing a good job as Inquisitor. I just think he has a fucked up sense of humour.’

Dorian rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand. He had been lying on his belly in the undergrowth for three and a half hours now, and his eyes were beginning to itch. The Iron Bull lay next to him breaking twigs idly and flicking the broken bits at Dorian. Cadash had sent them to watch a mountain pass. Lelianna’s reports suggested it may have been a smuggling route for Red Lyrium. But so far the only red Dorian was seeing was the red fog building up behind his eyes.

‘And you’re the expert on such matters.’ Dorian replied, desperately trying to ignore the tiny piece of wood that just hit him in the side of the face. They had been told to wait there until sunrise and the moon wasn’t even up.

‘Think about it.’ Bull said, his sentence punctuated by another stick snapping. ‘Ten people in the Inner Circle, right?’ Snap. ‘Cadash divides us into pairs.’ Snap. ‘Sends us out to watch all the different routes.’ Snap. ‘From the outside-‘ Snap. ‘-it’s all very innocent.’ Snap. ‘But then think about.’ ‘Who in their right mind-‘ Snap. ‘-would send me out with you.’

Dorian felt a twig bounce off the top of his head. ‘I have been asking myself the same question for hours.’

‘Everyone knows we butt heads.’ Snap. ‘If it was just us, it’s not suspicious at all.’ Snap. ‘Sometimes you just get stuck with the people you least want to be with.’

‘How kind.’

Bull ignored him. ‘But look at the other pairs.’ Snap. ‘Cass and Varric.’ Snap. ‘Vivienne and Blackwall.’ Snap. ‘Sera and Solas.’ Snap. ‘There is no way Cadash did that arrangement by accident.’ Snap. ‘He’s probably pissing himself laughing right now.’ Snap.

‘You think our noble leader deliberately teamed us up with the people we find the least tolerable for his own sick amusement? That’s a bit far-fetched. How can he possibly enjoy everyone clashing when he’s not there to watch?’

Snap. ‘That’s the evil-genius part.’ Snap. ‘Who is left for Cadash to be paired up with?’ Snap.

Dorian ran through the list of the Inquisition’s inner circle in his mind until he came to the last unpaired member. ‘Cole?’ A chunk of twig pinged him in the neck.

‘Yep.’ Snap. ‘Our very own Cole.’ Snap. ‘A mind-reading, demon boy who can’t stop himself going for a wander through our brains on a regular basis.’ Snap. ‘How close do you think you have to be for Cole to pick up our thoughts?’

‘I haven’t given it any consideration.’

‘I’d bet gold the boss has.’ Snap.

‘You have a very cynical view of a man who was apparently chosen by Andraste herself to deliver us from Corypheus’ clutches.’

‘If Andraste chose a dwarf to be her herald-’ Snap, ‘-then there is a good chance her sense of humour is just as bad as his.’

‘”If” Andraste chose him? You don’t believe it happened?’

‘Don’t know, don’t care.’ Snap. ‘It’s not why I signed on.’ Snap. ‘What do you believe went down?’

‘I believe-’ Dorian’s hand shot out, latched onto the stick in Bull’s hand, and sent a flare of heat into it. It burst into flame. Bull dropped it and it fizzled into ashes on the ground, ‘that if you throw a twig at me one more time I will freeze your arm solid and break it off.’

To Dorian’s annoyance Bull grinned. ‘I was wondering how long it would take for you to…’ he paused for emphasis, ‘snap.’

Dorian shoved his face into his palm. ‘Bull, I know this may be asking the impossible, but for the rest of the night, could you curb your urge to act like an obnoxious preadolescent. Restrain it.’ Dorian stopped for a second before adding the final touch. ‘ _Conquer_ it, even.’

The emphasis was clear and unambiguous. Bull groaned. The cold night air made his breath huff out in a cloud. ‘Are you ever going to let that go?’

Dorian noticed a beetle had crawled onto his sleeve. He flicked it off.  ‘I’m not the one who casually slips graphic sexual images into conversations. In front of the Inquisitor, no less.’

‘Were you just embarrassed because people heard? Or was what I said over the line?’ Dorian knew Bull must be mocking him, but Bull’s tone was all wrong; too serious and questioning.

‘It was completely inappropriate. Although from you I’d not as though I expect any better.’

The cool night air sat thickly between them for a minute. Dorian could hear crickets chirping in the forest behind him.

‘I apologise,’ Bull broke the quiet. ‘I didn’t intend any offence. It won’t happen again.’

Dorian shifted his gaze onto Bull. The mercenary was looking straight ahead onto the road, but his expression was solemn.

‘Honestly?’ Dorian asked. Bull glanced at him.

‘Yes. I’ve told Cassandra the same thing. She doesn’t mind the flirting as long as it’s clear nothing’s ever going to happen. But if it’s something that really rubs you the wrong way, I’ll back off. It’s no fun otherwise.’

Dorian looked away, running a hand over his moustache. He clicked his tongue and said ‘Well then, I can’t leave the Seeker to suffer alone then, can I?’

Bull raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh Really?’

‘What?’

Bull began to smile and Dorian found he both did and didn’t like it. ‘All for poor Cass’ sake, eh?’

‘Yes? So?’

‘Cause she’s such a shrinking violet who needs her honour protected?’

‘Because you’re a lecherous beast, who can’t stop himself voicing his perverted desires to everything and everyone.’

Dorian heard a rustle as Bull’s body shifted an inch closer. His voice was low and coarse. ‘Not because you enjoy the rush of blood to your nethers, when I whisper dirty things in your ear? Not because those “perverted desires” keep you tossing and turning until the sun has risen and your sheets are stained?’

Dorian mustered all of his willpower to not look at Bull. There was none left over to stop himself wiping his sweaty palm on his sleeve. ‘You are infuriating.’

‘You just said twelve seconds ago you were fine with the flirting!’ Bull grumbled.

‘I said I could bear-up. There’s a difference. And that, for your enlightenment, was not flirting! That was vulgarity!’

Bull nodded in fake earnestness. ‘It’s alright, Dorian. I get it. You’re not the first human to have a crush on me. Your lot see me as something exotic. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.’

‘To have a cru… I never… wipe that smirk off your face, Bull.’

‘I could. But I bet you would like to do it for me.’

Bull made an exaggerated kissy face at Dorian. The mage crinkled his nose and shoved his open palm into the side of Bull’s face, trying to steer the Qunari’s expression away from himself and back to the road.

‘No! That’s it! I take it all back! Maker preserve me from big-horned idiots who...

Suddenly, Bull grabbed Dorian’s wrist. Dorian stilled. Gently, with his other hand, Bull curled the mage’s fingers over his own. The Qunari turned the hand downwards, exposing the back, before locking eyes with Dorian, whose expression was sheer bewilderment. The corner of Bull’s mouth slid upwards and he pressed his lips onto the smooth skin that covered Dorian’s knuckles. It was the sort of kiss one would expect a chevalier to bestow on a high noble, after winning a tournament in their honour.

Dorian sat for a moment, stunned. Bull cleared his throat.

‘Was _that_ flirting?’

Dorian yanked his hand away. Bull let him without resistance.

‘Bull, you really are the most insufferable creature in all of Thedas! Are you aware of that?’

Bull shrugged and grinned. ‘I’m just giving Cole something interesting to tell the Boss.’


	2. Night Two

‘This is a terrible game.’ Bull was leaning heavily on one elbow, his hand cupping his chin. Night two of the stake-out was going as well as night-one in regards to sighting the Red Lyrium. That is to say, they hadn't seen a damn thing.

‘You said you wanted to play a game.’ Dorian objected. ‘I’m obliging you. It’s rather ungracious of you to complain.’

‘I wanted to play I-spy.’

‘I’ve had enough of that blasted game with Varric. Besides, I am not stupid enough to play I-spy with an actual spy. Unless you can think of another game, you can play mine or sit here in silence. Entirely your choice.’

Bull made a production out of groaning. ‘Okay, fine. You pick a word.’

Dorian’s eyes rolled up as he searched his mind for inspiration. ‘Okay…’ his voice drew out every syllable. ‘The word is…’

Bull cut in. ‘You can’t say tree.’

‘What makes you think I was going to say tree?’ Dorian huffed, irritated that Bull had not only interrupted him but had guess what word he was going to choose.

Bull’s eye flickered around the woodland that surrounded and pressed down on the pair of them. Besides the mountain trail there was nothing but forest to be seen for miles. ‘Years of Ben-Hasrath training,’ He answered dryly.

‘Fine. Point taken. How about… Sun.’

‘Moon.’ Bull shot back. He was so fast it took a moment for Dorian to recover but not long enough for him to be out.

‘Night.’

‘Knight.’

‘You just can’t say the same word I used…’

‘With a “K” ‘vint.’

‘Oh I see… er… horse.’

‘Meat.’

Dorian wrinkled his nose. ‘Disgusting.’

‘Nope.’ Bull shook his head. ‘Can’t do that. I win.’

‘What? No you don’t.’

‘The word was “meat” not “horse meat”. Unless you think all meat is disgusting, it doesn’t count.’

‘Maybe I do. For all you know I’ve been vegetarian for years. Have you ever considered that?’ Dorian was lying, but only for the sake of continuing the argument and they both knew it.

‘Not if how you wolfed down that stew at lunch is anything to go by.’

‘I beg your pardon, I do not “wolf” anything.’

‘If you say so ‘vint. Still, that’s one point to me.’

Dorian sighed. ‘Fine. Your turn to pick a word.’

Bull lay quiet for a moment, while his brain ran through words.

‘Testicle.’

‘What?!’ Dorian spluttered. ‘Why the hell…? Maker’s breath, Bull...’

Bull clicked his tongue ‘Sorry, ‘vint. Took too long. Another point to me.’

Dorian clenched his jaw. ‘That was a cheap move, Bull.’

‘That was _strategy_.’ Bull said. ‘Maybe you should try it. It’s your boring word game, after all.’

Dorian narrowed his eyes ‘Alright then, if you insist. The next word is… demon.’

Bull’s cheeky smile turned into a grimace but he did not lose the pace. ‘Mage.’

Dorian had to admit, that was a good shot. ‘Magic.’

‘Messed-up.’

‘That’s two words.’

‘It’s hyphenated.’

‘Doesn’t count. Point to me.’

Bull grunted but didn’t press the issue. ‘Dragon.’

Dorian was surprised this one hadn’t come up earlier seeing as he was playing with Bull. ‘Fire.’

‘Burn.’

‘Scar.’

Bull pointed to some of his own personal collection ‘Sexy.’

Dorian rolled his eyes and shook his head but Bull didn’t fail to notice how he smiled at the same time.

‘Delusional.’

Bull gasped as if struck. ‘Hurtful.’

‘Accurate.’

‘Denial.’

‘Conceited.’

‘Tempted.’

Dorian’s face faltered for a fraction of a second and Bull realised he had hit some sort of nerve. Dorian covered whatever emotion had surged in him with lightning speed. ‘I think we’ve wandered away from the rules, haven’t we?’

Bull sniffed. ‘Just a bit.’ He was annoyed at himself for – however inadvertently – saying something stupid enough to make Dorian close up again. For two seconds he had gotten a genuine smile out of the man. And then he had to go spoil it.

‘You’re right.’ Leaves rustled under Dorian and he shifted position slightly. ‘It’s a terrible game. Tomorrow we should bring out some cards with us. Play wicked grace, instead.’

Bull scratched an ear. ‘I don’t know. This word game was starting to grow on me.’

Dorian raised his eyebrows. ‘Because you were winning?’

‘It doesn’t hurt; I’m not going to lie. Your turn for a word Dorian.’

‘Oh, I can’t think of one, you go ahead.’

‘Let me see. How about… Bear…’

‘Claws.’

To Dorian’s shock, Iron Bull leaped to his feet, grabbing his axe, his eye locked onto something behind Dorian. ‘No, I mean _bear_!’

Dorian turned and saw a snarling, slobbering Great  Bear charging towards them like a silver streak in the moon-light. He swore and grabbed his staff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, short chapter after a longish gap, but I promise it will go the opposite direction with the next one. This may not be the direct I know most of you were expecting, but stay tuned. There's more to come.


	3. Night Three

It was day three of their Stake-Out and not one of the pairs had seen any signs of Red-Templars. Everyone’s nerves were on edge; a combination of sleepless nights, restlessness, and the continued company they had to share. Back at the camp Blackwall and Vivienne had acted as though the other simply didn’t exist. Solas muttered in elvish whenever he passed by Sera, who’d flip him the bird in return (the fact she wasn't even bothering to make a crass comment was telling). And when Cole had said something cryptic at lunch, while everyone was seated in front of the fire, Cassandra and Varric had jumped in to cut him off, both of them blathering loud and fast about two completely unrelated things.

Well, they all should be thankful none of them had had to kill a bloody _bear_.

Dorian had watched Cadash throughout the day and he was beginning to suspect Bull was right. The dwarf had seemed in a cheerful mood, like he was enjoying a private joke.

Damn him.

And now he and Bull were back in their usual spot, in the undergrowth, watching the road and trying their hardest to ignore the rain, which had been drizzling through the tree-tops for over two hours.

‘Killing Cadash when we get back to camp would be frowned upon, right Bull?’ Dorian asked, blinking some of the rain out of his eyes. From the corner of his eye he could see Bull; he looked like one of those gargoyles you find adorning the fountains on an Orlesian noble’s estate. Water was trickling down his horns, dripping off his ears and nose, carving pathways along his cheek-bones before running under his chin. It was only when Bull talked could you tell he was not made of stone.

‘It’s a bit hard to have an Inquisition without an Inquisitor, Dorian.’

‘It’s a bit hard to have an Inquisition when all its most skilled members have either killed each other or died of pneumonia.’

Bull tilted his head, inadvertently flicking Dorian with a few drops. ‘Aw. Is Dorian getting the sniffles? Can’t you order one of your slaves to be sick instead of you?’

‘You say that as a joke, but yes, you can. Many Magisters know spells that will transfer a sickness or ailment from one body to another.’

‘You’re joking.’ Bull didn’t sound like he thought it was funny at all.

‘Sadly no.’ Dorian ran his fingers through his wet hair. ‘One knew a woman called Portia who swore by it. Recommended to everyone as though it was the latest fashion trend. “Darling, you should try it. I haven’t felt this young in years!” She was always trailed by a stick-thin elven woman, who looked like she would break apart if you touched her. Never heard that elf speak a word but I remember her voice - from the constant coughing.’

Dorian both felt and heard the low rumble radiate out of Bull’s chest. ‘Your country is fucked-up, Dorian.’

‘I agree whole-heartedly.’

Dorian’s last words were full of bizarre little halts and hitches. Bull looked down at him and realised Dorian was saying them through a clenched jaw. Even lying on the ground, Dorian’s arms were crossed tight against his chest. His hands were bunched into shaking fists. Bull knew he was livid about his homeland, but there was a more obvious reason why Dorian was holding himself so tightly.

‘Are you _shivering_?’ Bull asked.

‘It’s cold. And wet. Shivering is what we humans do under those circumstances.’ Dorian was clearly trying to keep his voice level, but his shuddering was making it impossible. When Bull continued to eye Dorian the mage glared back. ‘Yes, Bull. I know, I am a pampered Tenvinter Altus who is finally discovering the harsh realities of life outside of the Imperium, and it serves me right- what are you doing?’

Bull had suddenly turned and began rifling through the supplies he had packed for their stake-out. From the bottom of the sack- a sack Dorian had noticed was larger than Bull’s usual – he began to pull something out. And out. And out.

Dorian’s mouth fell opened. ‘Is that the bear from last night?’

‘Yep. I gave the skin to Harding. She sent to a tanner this morning. Didn’t expect it back for another week, but it was ready by nightfall. Apparently when the Inquisition asks for something, it gets done fast.’

Dorian looked at the huge silver fur in Bull’s hands. The thing was large and thick and the rain was clearly rolling off it instead of soaking through.

‘Why didn’t you get it out sooner instead of just lying in the rain?’ Dorian asked.

Bull didn’t speak his answer. Instead he held out the fur in Dorian’s direction. The smell hit Dorian like he had run into a wall.

‘Oh my.’ Dorian blinked a few times and put a fist under his nose. ‘That’s… pungent.’

‘It smells like a wet dog with a perforated bowel.’ Bull said and it was a very accurate description. ‘But you know what they say about beggars and choosers.’

Dorian grimaced but nodded ‘And I thought Great Bears smelt bad on the outside.’

Bull laughed and shifted next to Dorian so their sides were flush against each other. He unfurled the fur and flicked it out so that it was draped over the two of them. The thing was large enough to even reach down and cover Bull’s feet.

In spite of the smell, and in spite of the fact he was still sopping wet, it was significantly warmer under the bearskin. Dorian didn’t know if it was the fur doing the trick, or the warmth of the man lying next to him. It was probably both.

Dorian glanced up to say thank you, but started giggling instead. The fur’s edge was hooked over Bull’s horns, as though they were tent poles. It reminded Dorian vaguely of a bridal veil and the thought of Bull in one of those just made him laugh harder. Bull looked down at him, eyebrow raised.

‘I’m trying to do you a favour ‘vint.’ He said, but his ire was pretend. ‘If you’d rather go back to lying in the rain, just give me the word.’

‘Sorry, sorry.’ Dorian raised his hands in surrender. ‘I’m an ass when it comes to accepting gifts apparently.’ He swallowed his laugher and cleared his throat. ‘This is very gracious of you, Bull.’

‘Yeah, well. Don’t get too comfortable.’ Bull said, even as he shifted one elbow to the opposite side of Dorian’s torso, boxing the mage under his arm. ‘As soon as these Templars show up, we take them down and get the hell back to Skyhold.’

But the Templars didn’t show up that night. The rain fell until almost daybreak and the two men huddled under the foul smelling bear skin until the sun came up.


	4. Night Four

‘You didn’t have to do this, you know.’ Bull’s words were muffled by the handful of nuts he had just stuffed in his mouth. They were covered in some sort of sticky, sugary coating that somehow managed to be sweet and salty at the same time. Dorian had gone to a lot of trouble to get some shipped to Skyhold – a popular Tevinter snack that apparently had nostalgic value to him. Bull didn’t hold many things Tevinter created in any high esteem, but he had to admit, _this_ they got right.

‘And neglect to show my gratitude for sharing your horrendous-smelling shelter with me last night?’ Dorian was munching away on the nuts too, but at a slower pace and in smaller quantities. ‘I would bring shame upon House Pavus.’

‘The same House Pavus that tried to use blood-magic on you, when they found out you liked men? Yeah. I can clearly see that you’re the bad apple in the family.’

Bull knew he was on the verge of crossing a line with that comment, but to his relief Dorian actually laughed. If his remark had been in a less flippant tone, Bull knew that it would have gone down in flames. Turned out Dorian _could_ discuss his family situation; as long as it was for only five seconds and in the same glib manner Dorian used to interact with the world at large.

Dorian reached into the small hessian sack that lay between himself and Bull and pulled out another handful of nuts. ‘To be honest, I think most of my family would be horrified to know I am sharing food with a Qunari in the first place, Tal-Vashoth or not.’

‘So you’re damned if you do, damned if you don’t?’

‘Exactly. So I may as well do whatever I damn-well please.’

Bull nodded. Growing up under the Qun, a statement such as that would have been completely foreign to him at one time in his life. Now, it sounded like a fairly reasonable philosophy.

‘Did you ever eat anything similar when you were a child?’ Asked Dorian, his eyes focused on the road.

‘Nah. Food like this is a bit decadent when you’re living under the Qun. In Par Vollen, food isn’t about pleasure. It’s about nourishment.’

Dorian chewed thoughtfully. ‘So what then? Do you all subsist on a diet of thin gruel and water?’

‘Hell no! We have great tasting food. Spices, fresh produce; all the good shit. If food is delicious, people want to eat it and are less likely to waste it. That just makes sense. But we don’t have...’ Bull scratched his cheek with his thumb. ‘I don’t know. Special occasion food, I guess? You have what you need to get you through the day and no more. Eating here in the south has more meaning and ritual attached to it. Like sex.’

Bull took pains not to notice how Dorian _doesn’t_ react to the “s-e-x” word. At one time Dorian would have assumed that Bull was making a pass at him, or trying to get him flustered. Now he just took it in his stride as part of the conversation. For a man who had spent his existence being scrupulously circumspect about all carnal matters –just for the sake of his own survival- to let its mention slide without comment was remarkable.

Bull would later realise the significance of that moment, when he was in his tent the next morning trying his best to sleep through the sunny day.

Dorian was beginning to be comfortable around him.

But that night Bull didn’t examine it.

Dorian looked at one of the nuts and flung it into a bush, apparently dissatisfied with its appearance. ‘So as a connoisseur of fine cuisine Thedas-wide what’s your expert opinion; is food better here or in Par Vollen?’

Bull’s brow creased. ‘It’s not so much the food itself, as the way it is eaten.’

Dorian frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’

Bull wasn’t sure he fully understood either, but he tried to explain anyway. ‘When I first got to Fereldan I saw so much food being wasted and so many hungry people. That pissed me off. It still pisses me off. But in Par Vollen you eat because it’s time to eat and that’s it. There you don’t eat because your friend has just popped their cherry and wants to go to the tavern and brag, or because you’ve had a big pay-day and can treat the boys for all their hard work or even because the guy you’ve been having a stake-out with wants to say thanks for keeping the rain off his back. In that way, I like the south better. Here, food comes with memories.’

Bull wondered if he had made sense, but the way Dorian slowly nodded put that uncertainty to rest.

‘So what do you miss then?’ asked Dorian, and Bull was a little surprised to find the mage was genuinely interested. ‘If you could pick one food from when you were The Iron Calf, and eat it now, what would it be?’

Bull frowned. He prodded the question in his mind like someone would stoke a fire.

‘The bread.’

Dorian tilted his head, his eyes narrow. ‘The bread?’

‘Yes.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes.’ Bull said firmly. ‘The bread.’

‘Not some huge meaty animal that you would spit-roast over an open flame?’

‘No. The bread.’

Dorian let out a soft. ‘Huh,’ and looked back to the road. A nug was hopping across it, and it was the most traffic either of them had seen in the whole time they had been watching it. ‘I wasn’t expecting that.’

‘I can tell.’

‘Can I ask why “the bread”?’

Bull’s eyes were directed at the road but they weren’t focused on it. They seemed to be locked onto the middle-distance. ‘When you’ve been training since dawn, fighting with all your strength against the other Sten until you’re completely worn and spent, and you come home after dark covered in cuts and bruises and mud and blood, your stomach sounding like a ravenous dog and you finally get your hands on a loaf golden-brown bread, still warm and fresh from the Tamassran’s oven…’ Bull breathed in deeply as though he was remembering the smell. ‘Yeah. Definitely the bread.’

Dorian had a faint smile on his face. ‘Fair enough.’

The forest made its typical night-time noises, and Dorian and Bull lay beside each other, noiseless except for the sound of their chewing.

‘Dorian?’

‘Yes Bull?’

‘Thanks for letting me taste your sweet nuts.’

Dorian fixed Bull with his blankest stare. Not breaking eye contact, he reached over, picked up the bag of nuts, and moved it as far out of Bull’s reach as he could.

‘Oh come _on_!’ Bull said.

‘No.’

‘That was funny!’

‘No.’

‘It was a joke, I take it back!’

‘No. We were having a nice moment and you went and ruined it. Just lay there and think about what you did.’

Dorian did let Bull have some more of the nuts. Eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I have the humour of a twelve year old boy.


	5. Night Five

‘You think they did it?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘ _Yeah_ , you do.’ Bull elbowed Dorian in the ribs, and even though Dorian was lying in the undergrowth on his belly, the mage nearly fell over from the force of it. Dorian didn’t think it was possible to fall over while horizontal, but with Bull’s help it almost happened.

Dorian sighed. ‘Okay, yes, I do. But I am not about to discuss it with you.’

Bull threw up his hands in exasperation. ‘Why not? You were the one who has said for ages that Cassandra and Varric’s “feigned mutual loathing is merely a poorly constructed façade for the unbridled lust that lurks beneath, ready to burst forth at a moment’s notice.”’ Bull put on a high, fussy voice for the last half of the sentence. Dorian made an indignant noise.

 ‘I do _not_ sound like that.’

Bull shrugged. ‘That’s what you say, but Sera thinks my impression is pretty spot on.’

‘Is Sera an expert on impersonations all of a sudden? Because last I remember her impression of Solas was a fart noise.’

Bull’s face split into a grin. ‘Heh heh. Yeah… But back on point, do you think Cass and Varric…’

‘Had amorous congress?’

‘I was going to say “shacked-up under a bush while they were meant to be watching for Red Templars”, but, you know, “amorous congress” works too.’

It hadn’t been the way Varric and Cassandra were quite obviously _not looking_ at each other back at camp, which had given rise to the rumours. It hadn’t been how eager both of them had been to avoid Cole– which was strange, particularly on Varric’s part.

It had been the bruise of Cassandra’s neck.

The Seeker had insisted she’d got it when a tree-branch she had been moving out of her way abruptly snapped back without warning, flicking her just under the collarbone.

But the mark certainly didn’t _look_ like a branch had caused it.

And if it had been a vicious branch-attack, why was Cassandra so keen to hide it?

It had been the camp gossip for the day, much to the dwarf’s irritation, the Seeker’s growing anger, and everyone else’s amusement. It was only natural that it would be the topic of this night’s round of surveillance too.

Dorian had been one of the chief rabble-rousers back at camp. At one point, if Cadash hadn’t been there, he was certain Cassandra would have stabbed him. However out here, in the dark, Dorian had the unquiet feeling that the topic was potentially dangerous. And what was worse he was unsure why.

The past few nights had been… well pleasant certainly wasn’t the correct term, what with the torrential downpour, the bear-attacks, and how there hadn’t been a single sign of these Maker-be-damned Red Templars. But at the start Dorian hadn’t been certain both himself and Bull were going to leave this mission alive. Not because of the threat the Red Templars presented, but because there was a good chance they would throttle each other.

No one was more shocked than Dorian to discover that he and Bull could actually have a civilised conversation.

No one was more shocked than Dorian to discover he actually enjoyed the conversations.

That was disquieting in itself. Because now he had discovered he and Bull could actually enjoy each other’s company, something traitorous inside him tried to suggest other pleasurable things they could do in each other’s company. Dorian had managed to quash these ideas and images before they crept out of his subconscious, and became fully realised in his own mind. But he was certain there was something lurking beneath the surface of his own thoughts, like a shark circling.

He didn’t know exactly what he was afraid of yet. But he knew this topic would be like blood in the water.

‘It’s no fun speculating without Cassandra and Varric around to over-hear and glower at us.’ Dorian replied and hoped it sounded convincing.

‘All I’m asking is do you think Cassandra and Varric hooked up. I didn’t realise you needed an audience for that.’

‘That’s not the point.’

‘What is then?’

‘I…’ Dorian paused looking for the right words, ‘I enjoy teasing Cassandra and Varric over their supposed hidden feelings for each other, regardless of whether it’s true or not. What actually happened is irrelevant.’

‘Oh. So you’re saying you just enjoy being a little shit.’

‘A witty and charismatic shit, but yes. Are you saying you don’t enjoy stirring the pot?’

‘Yeah, but I want to know if it’s true too. Maybe it’s just the spy in me, but I like to know what’s going on with the people I work with, whether it’s the Chargers or you lot. Makes my job easier in the long run.’

‘I don’t see how Cassandra and Varric’s sex life – if they do have one – affects you either way.’

‘You say that now. But think about this. Let’s say you’re in one of Cadash’s four-man quest parties he loves so much, and Cassandra and Varric are picked to go with you. If one of them gets taken down, you’d better keep an eye on the other. Varric looks like the kind to drop everything and run to his lover, while Cass would probably go berserk and hack everyone who hurt Varric into chucks. Either way they’re going to be irrational, unfocused and leave you vulnerable.’

 _Irrational, unfocused and vulnerable_ , thought Dorian, _that’s what sex does to you, in a nutshell._

Dorian shrugged. ‘They probably aren’t even having sex anyway. After all, the bruise was on Cassandra’s neck.’ He huffed out a laugh. ‘Can Varric even reach her neck without a stool?’

‘Oh it’s possible. Believe me.’ Bull leered. ‘When you’re as tall as I am, you learn pretty quickly how to work around a height difference.’

Something slithered through the shadows at the back of Dorian’s mind but he managed to keep it there, and out of the light.

‘So you really have no opinion on the possibility of tiny Dwarven Seekers running around Skyhold?’ Bull asked doubtfully. Dorian couldn’t stop himself from laughing at this mental image.

‘No. To badger the two of them light-heartedly is one thing, but to pry into their personal life is another. I know what it’s like to be the focus of unwanted speculations and it would be hypocritical of me to do it to others.’

Bull nodded, considering this. ‘I guess that’s fair. So giving them grief is the end of it for you?’

‘Is it any different to Sera giving cunnilingus advice to Blackwall? Or your attempts to rattle me with your incessant flirting?’

‘Wait, what?’

‘Sera’s being giving Blackwall advice for wooing our ambassador, haven’t you heard? I obviously have no use for the information practically, but from an academic standpoint –‘

Bull waved his hand. ‘No, no. I know about Sera’s ripe-peach talk. But why does my flirting count as “giving grief”?’

Dorian rolled his head upwards. ‘Bull, I told you the flirting was fine. It’s water off a duck’s back. I only meant that-‘

‘You don’t think I’m being serious when I flirt with you? Is that it? You think I just want to throw you off-balance for shits and giggles?’

Dorian felt his stomach drop. The scrutinising look on Bull’s face set off alarms in Dorian’s brain.

_This is it. This was the danger. Retreat. Retreat now._

‘Well… yes? I mean… what else were you trying to do?’

 _That’s not a retreat!_ Dorian’s brain screamed. _That’s the opposite of a retreat! That’s opening your city gates and giving the enemy a parade!_

Bull just stared at Dorian, his mouth slightly open, as though Dorian had just asked him the stupidest question in the world.

‘I was trying to get in your pants you idiot. What else is flirting for?’

‘ _What_?’

‘I knew it was a long shot, but hey,’ Bull shrugged. ‘You can’t blame a man for trying.’

‘Are you serious? All those comments about “conquering” and “experiencing the forbidden” were genuine attempts at seducing me?’

‘ _Yes!_ ’ Bull still had that incredulous look on his face. ‘What, do you not have flirting in Tevinter, or something?’

‘Well…’ Dorian rubbed his chin and was shocked to feel how warm his skin was. ‘To be honest most of the seduction I have experienced was more, shall we say, clandestine.’

Bull tilted his head. ‘I see. So when I came right out and said “I want to have sex with you”, you just got all bewildered and confused.’

Dorian scowled at Bull. ‘It’s hardly my fault you’re so blasé about sex I can’t tell what is a sincere offer, and what is a jibe.’

‘It’s okay Dorian, next time I’ll try flirting the ‘Vint way. I’ll have a pigeon leave a bunch of flowers at your door back at Skyhold. Secretly they’ll contain a hidden coded message. You can reply by sending up smoke signals from one of the battlements. Then we’ll both put on our disguises – we’ll have to wear red silk handkerchiefs so we’ll know who the other is…’

‘Are you quite finished?’ asked Dorian flatly. Bull’s voice had becoming increasingly unsteady as he fought back laughter.

‘Dorian, how you’ve managed to have sex _at all_ is a mystery.’

‘And will continue to be a mystery, at least to you.’

Bull let his cackling die away naturally, while Dorian silently fumed. But part of him was relieved. The topic of Varric and Cassandra had come up and it hadn’t lead down the awkward road Dorian had expected.

It hadn’t lead down any other roads either, but Dorian wasn’t disappointed in the slightest about that.

Not at all.

Not even a little.

Besides, even if he was, it certainly wouldn’t do for him and Bull to be… particularly if Cassandra and Varric were…

Dorian became  suddenly concerned.

‘You don’t think Cadash is waiting for everyone to “pair-off” before calling this whole surveillance mission a lost cause?’

Bull snorted. ‘I hope not. Unless Solas grows a pair of tits we could be waiting awhile.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry everyone. A thing called life got in the way. But hopefully I will be able to get this done over the next three days. I hope this chapter actually works because I'm a little iffy on its execution. If it isn't the next one is a lot better in my opinion so stay tuned.


	6. Night Six

‘You are _so_ full of shit, ‘vint!’ On their first night, Bull and Dorian had made a moderate effort to be quiet, as not to give their position away. Now, both of them were in the middle of a shouting match that could probably be heard for miles.

‘That is your eloquent rebuttal then? Is that how The Iron Bull debates? By declaring unequivocally and irrefutably that his opponents are full of shit?

‘Only when they are!’

‘Mages can call forth fire from the air! Lighting from the heavens! Warriors hack away at people with sharpened metal sticks!’

‘Exactly! You rely so much on your flashy magic, that you don’t know what to do when you can’t use it. You go from acting like you’re one of the old gods, to some idiot holding a piece of wood. If you know how to use a sword, you always know how to use a sword.’

‘A sword is no good if you’re already on fire.’

‘And a mage is only as good as their aim. How many Venatori or rouge mages have we killed because they couldn’t lob a fireball in a straight line?’

‘We’ve killed just as many Red Templars, Freemen of the Dales…’

‘The freemen are just deserters who got too big for their boots and the Red Templars are just running on crazy by now. None of them really count as skilled warriors.’

‘And you think the rogue mages are the pinnacle of magical talent?’

‘I’m just saying you put a warrior and a mage against each other – with the same level of training – and all the warrior has to do is last until the mage runs out of manner. Then, bam! It’s over.’

Dorian pursed his lips, pouring over the idea in his head. He rolled off his stomach before rising to his feet.

‘Come on.’

Bull raised an eyebrow ‘Come on what?’

‘Let’s test out your hypothesis. You and me. We’ll have a quick sparring match in the clearing down the hill, and put this to rest once and for all.

Bull looked Dorian up and down. ‘You can’t be serious.’

‘As the grave.’

‘You really want to fight me?’

‘Well, ideally I would be fighting against a warrior who is as skilled at his craft as I am at magic. But since we’re doing this on such short notice, you’ll have to suffice.’

Bull knew Dorian was trying to bait him into a duel with that quip, but he remained where he was. Something about the whole situation seemed out-of-whack. In fact, the dynamic between the two of them had felt off since they had trudged up to their usual look-out point that evening. Bull suspected Dorian had been turning over last night’s conversation in his head – the one where Bull had told him that when he flirted with Dorian he was doing it _to flirt with Dorian_ – and somehow, through twisted ‘vint logic, the mage had decided the best way to proceed was through a sparring match; first verbal then physical. Bull wouldn’t have minded under different circumstances. Ninety percent of their relationship had been bickering until last week, and Dorian was fun to bicker with. But now Bull was beginning to wonder whether this sort of behaviour was something he should be indulging Dorian in. The man had more than his share of demons and, to Bull, it seemed like Dorian always tried to exorcise them in the worst ways possible – drinking, sleeping around, and finding someone to either beat the shit out of or who would beat the shit out of him. Since Dorian had been in the Inquisition and had a goal, a purpose and people who counted on him, these instances had been few and far between. But Bull had heard stories about what Dorian’s life had been like back in Tevinter.

And old habits die hard.

‘Don`t you think Cadash will be unhappy if one or both of us ends up maimed?’ Bull tried to steer the conversation back to something that didn’t involve Dorian and himself going toe-to-toe – which was pretty messed up when The Iron Bull was the one trying to avoid a fight.

‘We’ll set ground rules. I can’t use any magic that would cause permanent damage-‘

‘That’s pretty much all magic, big guy.’

‘- and you can’t use your blade.’

‘Wait, I can’t use my axe, you can’t use fire or ice or lighting… is this just going to end up a wrestling match? Because if you wanted to just roll around on the ground all sweaty and panting…’

Dorian cut him off. ‘You’ll just have to get creative. I have some ideas for my own part, so I’m sure you can think of something.’

‘But what if the Red Templars come while we’re fighting?’

Bull and Dorian both erupted into laughter at this suggestion. The joke seemed to be Bull’s way of agreeing to the match. Something about Dorian’s stance told Bull it was inevitable. Like a boulder rolling down a hill. He slowly got to his feet and followed Dorian to the clearing the mage had mentioned. It was a small glade of trees roughly twenty paces wide. They both could still see where they had been hiding for the past few nights, but the road was more obscured. Automatically, both men retreated to opposite ends of the clearing and faced each other. Bull pulled out his axe and flipped it over so that the blade looked more like an elaborate hilt. The shaft was the part which he would strike with. Dorian slid his staff from the holster on his back and began to twirl it, idly.

‘How do we determine the winner?’ asked Dorian.

‘When the loser admits defeat,’ Bull replied. ‘Sound good?’

‘Fine by me. No moves that could cause permanent injury are allowed, obviously.’

‘Obviously. Pain’s no fun unless the other guy is into it.’

Dorian shook his head but didn’t comment. Both men began to slowly circle around each other. Dorian still twirled his staff but there was a deliberate step to his gate now. His eyes were flicking over Bull. And not in the sexy way he did when he thought Bull wasn’t looking. Bull didn’t size Dorian up. He’d watched the mage in action hundreds of times by now. Bull had made a point of taking stock of all the inner circle’s movements; their strengths, their weaknesses, their favoured moves, their attacks and defences. Cole had once asked Bull if he thought about how to fight everyone he met and Bull was only half joking when he replied: “Do you not?”

Iron Bull was certain he had Dorian’s movements down pat.

However if the mage was going to be deliberately handicapping himself, it could change things. Bull knew he would have to factor that in.

Bull rolled his shoulder. ‘Are we going to circle around each other all night or are you…’

The baiting worked.

Dorian lunged at him, throwing a frosty blast of snow in Bull’s direction. Bull belted it out of the way with his axe-hilt, like a child playing a stick-and-ball game. Dorian flung out a second and Bull didn’t have time to swing. It hit him square in the jaw. He shook his head, flakes of snow flying.

‘I didn’t realise your duel-to-end-all-duels was going to be a snowball fight, ‘vint.’

Dorian smirked. ‘Would you rather I use lighting? I am more than happy to oblige-‘

Bull slammed the hilt onto the grown and watched as the earth split beneath it. Dorian’s quip was cut off as he ran to get out of the path of the oncoming earthquake. He was so busy watching the ground crack, he didn’t see Bull running at him. Dorian’s eye flew up in time to see Bull charging at him. He whirled his staff and sent up a wall of ice right in Bull’s path. The thing shattered apart as the Tal-Vashoth burst through it, without slowing at all.

While Dorian was in shock Bull rammed into him with his shoulder. Dorian went “arse over tea-kettle” landing on his back. Bull swung his hilt down, to hit Dorian in the chest, but the mage threw up his staff, blocking the blow. Bull bore down his weight on the hilt, and smiled as he saw Dorian begin to sweat with the effort of keeping the staff up.

‘Two little words, Dorian. Just say them and this will be over.’

Dorian set his jaw. An abrupt invisible force burst from Dorian’s staff and Bull staggered back a couple of steps. Dorian leapt to his feet.

‘Are those two little words “Fuck you”?’

Bull laughed and charged again. Dorian was ready this time and dodged the blow. Bull swerved to try and strike Dorian, but the mage curled his hand and suddenly Bull’s vision was blinded by a ball of fire. Dorian didn’t hurl it at him, but the flash was enough to make Bull’s eye scrunch shut. Bull forced it open just in time to see Dorian’s staff swipe upwards. He pulled his head back just in time, feeling the air rush past his face.

‘That was cheap, Dorian.’ He snarled.

‘That was _strategy_.’ Dorian said echoing what Bull had said during their word game. ‘Maybe you should try it.’

Dorian struck at Bull again, once, twice, but the mercenary was surprisingly nimble given his size. Bull jabbed Dorian in the collar bone with his pommel and the mage staggered back, wheezing. Bull stopped.

‘Whoa. Dorian, Sorry. I think we should call it a tie-‘

Bull tried to take a step forward when a sudden rush of cold enveloped his legs all the way to the knees. Bull looked down to see his feet encased in frost. A surge of electricity ran through his arm and he dropped his inverted axe in shock.

‘Why would I call it a tie, when I’ve clearly won?’ asked Dorian.

Bull growled and struggled to free his feet. He may as well have been knee deep in solid rock. Dorian moved a step closer.

‘Two little words, Bull and I’ll melt that nasty ice off your freezing footies.’ Dorian ran a hand over his moustache. Bull dropped his head and murmured something at the frozen ground.

‘What was that? I didn’t quite hear you Bull.’ Dorian leant closer and cupped his hand to his ear. Bull grabbed onto Dorian’s staff while the mage was still holding it.

‘Fuck you.’

Bull slammed the staff down on his feet. He’d hoped that the force would be enough to crack the ice, but he hadn’t expected the blast of fire that erupted from the end as he did so. As Dorian pulled himself and the staff out of Bull’s grip the ice had already melted away enough for Bull to break free. Dorian cried out and retreated backwards flinging a few more balls of frost Bull’s way. Bull snatched his axe and sprinted towards the mage at full speed. Dorian’s staff struck the earth and a thick sheet of ice snaked out along the ground beneath them. Bull saw it coming, but couldn’t slow his momentum. As soon as his foot hit the icy patch, he lost his balance and hit the ground with a shuddering thump. He slid for a few paces before coming to a stop, his axe skittering out of his grasp. Dorian swaggered over to where Bull was lying in a heap and leant on his staff. Bull rolled onto his back and was met by the smuggest expression he had ever seen in his long life.

‘Are you going to admit defeat, Bull?’ Dorian’s question was demure. Bull panted a few times and watched as Dorian leant closer to listen for an answer.

‘You know,’ Bull gasped. ‘You’re really are good.’

‘I’m pleased you’ve noticed.’

‘One thing, though. When your enemies are down, keep your distance.’

Bull swung his leg out and swept Dorian’s legs from under him. The mage saw dots of light behind his eyelids as his back hit the ground but was already struggling to get to his feet again because he knew if he just lay there Bull was going to…

An enormous weight was abruptly upon Dorian, pinning him down. A massive hand caught his wrist. Another tugged his staff out of his grasp and flung it away. Dorian tried to kick his attacker in the gut, to knock the wind out of him. The move was anticipated as Bull trapped Dorian’s legs under his own knees and calves. While Bull was distracted by this, Dorian did manage to elbow him in the face. Bull snarled and grabbed Dorian’s forearms, pinning them above his head. Dorian squirmed and bucked underneath the mercenary, spitting insults and curses in his native language. Bull snatched both of Dorian’s wrists in one hand and caught his jaw with the other, forcing the man below him to look him straight in the face. His eye was narrowed and hard, his lip split from Dorian’s elbow-jab.

‘Say it!’ Bull hissed.

‘No!’ said Dorian through gritted teeth.

‘I’ve won. Say it!’

Dorian scoffed, ‘If this was a real fight I would breathe fire straight in your face, just like one of those dragons you wank off to.’

Dorian probably shouldn’t have said that. Not when Bull was laying on top of him, holding him down, in the wet, icy, undergrowth.

‘If this was a real fight I would have already snapped your neck. I. Have. Won.’

Dorian was still writhing beneath that grip but it was like pushing against a cliff face. ‘Like hell, you have!’ he said even though every twist and tug was completely fruitless.

‘Look, I get it, Dorian.’ Bull’s gaze was holding Dorian down just as much as his muscles were. ‘You have to prove to yourself that you gave it your all; that you didn’t succumb too easily. You’ve done that. You've shown you’re not weak. But you don’t have to fight anymore. You don’t need to be ashamed. Just let go.’

Dorian stilled beneath Bull and both of them realised that Bull wasn’t just talking about the fight. Dorian’s lips parted slightly and his brow lowered; his face was full of an emotion Bull couldn’t read.

That wasn’t quite true. He didn’t know what Dorian was feeling, but it was _intense_.

Bull, almost sheepishly, let go of Dorian’s wrists and jaw. He slowly shifted back on his haunches, one knee sliding off Dorian’s right leg.

‘Sorry.’ Bull shook his head. ‘I didn’t… that got out of hand. It wasn’t my –‘

Dorian, before the other man was out of his reach, snatched Bull by the horns and used all his weight and the advantage gravity gave him, to drag the mercenary back down again into a hard and bruising kiss. Bull’s words were snuffed out like a candle against the mage's lips, as Dorian forced Bull down until he was bracketed by the man’s elbows. Dorian’s free leg twisted itself around Bull’s, and it became difficult to tell who had caught who. At first, Bull’s lips were still and unyielding, but that’s only due to shock. Dorian broke the kiss to suck in a quick breath, but Bull cut off the air again with his own mouth, the new kiss hungry and demanding. Dorian could taste the blood from Bull’s split lip, and was vaguely appalled to realise that just fuelled his desire. Bull’s weight was crushing down on him now, but that was alright, that was what he wanted and what Bull wanted and the way it should be. Both of their hands were moving by then. Dorian fiddled with the buckles on Bull’s belt, but it was difficult to manage one handed and with so little space between them. The other arm was resolutely locked around Bull’s horn, refusing to release his grip, lest the other man pulled out of his reach again. There was absolutely no intention of that on Bull’s part. Bull hadn’t even bothered with the buckles on Dorian’s clothes. He’d snaked his hand under the hem of Dorian’s “for-the-hundredth-time-it’s-not-a-skirt-Bull” and was running his hand up Dorian’s smooth stomach, along his ribs, and up towards his nipple. The other hand was busy with Dorian’s trousers, in particular trying to work out how to loosen them so he could pull them out of the way. Maybe he should just rip them off…

Loud voices came from the direction of the road. Both men’s head’s jerked apart at the sound. Their ears strained to hear what the noise was.

They both recognised the sound.

Carts wheels.

Bull groaned and snarled at the same time while Dorian banged his head against the ground.

‘Now?’ Bull hissed. ‘Five nights lying belly down in scrub and the Red Templars come _now?!’_

‘Why does the Maker hate me?’ Dorian asked, though Bull though he was speaking to the sky more than him. ‘Did I piss on a chantry? Did I say the Divine’s hat was ugly?’

‘We… could just let them roll by.’ suggested Bull. Dorian glared up at him. Bull glared back. ‘Oh, like you’re not thinking it too!’

Dorian huffed and pushed on Bull’s shoulder, trying to get him to roll off. For a second Bull just lay there, as though he liked where he was and had no intention of moving thank you very much. Then he signed and obeyed Dorian silent request. The mage got to his feet and grabbed his staff from the bush Bull had thrown it under while Bull seized his own battle-axe.

‘Here’s the plan.’ said Dorian, as he straightened his clothes. ‘We kill the Templars as quickly as possible, I send up a fireball to let the others know we've stopped the smugglers, and then we have a quick fuck before Harding and the scouts arrive. Sound good to you?’

Bull stepped up to Dorian, snatched him by the waist, and drew him into a firm kiss. Dorian’s knees almost decided to call it quits, but he managed to stay upright. Barely. Bull pulled away, raked Dorian over with an appreciative look and growled.

‘You’re a strategic genius.’

Then he let go of Dorian and was already tearing through the forest towards the mountain road. It took Dorian a little longer to get his feet to listen to his brain again, after that kiss, but he managed.

As for the Red Templars. They didn’t stand a chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a despicable human being. Sorry about the cock-blocking red-templars.


	7. Another night

There was no quick fuck.

Vivienne and Blackwall had come to the rescue, like gallant champions in tales of old. They had taken down the Red-Templars with brutal efficiency. When the skirmish was over they both insisted on waiting with Dorian and Bull until the scouting party arrived.

Apparently neither the Warden nor the Iron Lady felt inclined to spend any more time alone, in each other’s company.

So Dorian and Bull had traded glances while the four of them waited for Harding’s scouts to arrive.

And traded glances again as they rode back to camp, with the lyrium wagons burning behind them.

And even more glances as they shuffled off into the separate tents for sleep (which neither man quite managed).

And those glances had continued all the way back to Skyhold. It seemed like every time the two men had a moment together it was shattered by Solas wanting Dorian’s opinion on something magic related, or Cassandra barking at them to help pack up the tents because they were moving out early, or on one memorable occasion, Sera dumping a bucket full of worms on them from a tree.

Not once did Dorian or Bull have the chance to talk about “The Sixth Night”.

Bull was lying on his bed, staring up at the night sky through his ceiling and wondering what his next move should be. Or to be precise, whether there should be a next move at all.

He sat up and took a swig from a flask he kept next to his bed. He had been drinking with the Chargers since he got back that afternoon, and yet he still didn’t feel drunk enough.

A large section of his brain – the part where the alcohol had hit the hardest, Bull guessed – was telling him to man up and go to Dorian’s room. Just burst through the door, grab the mage while his mind was still reeling from Bull charging in and…

And what exactly?

That wasn’t what Bull did. People came to him. He gave them what they needed and that was it.

What he wanted wasn’t a factor.

Besides, having a make-out session after a spar didn’t mean anything profound. It was the by-product of lust and tension; nothing else. Bull had to look at it logically. He and Dorian had been full of adrenalin and covered in sweat and he had managed to pin Dorian under him and the mage’s mouth had been searing hot like a branding iron against his own and he way he had yanked Bull down by his horns and clung to him shouldn’t have been that intoxicating, and the feel of Dorian’s smooth firm skin under his own fingers as the smaller man writhed…

No. No stop that. That was the opposite of looking at it logically.

The point was circumstances had played a big part. In fact they had been foundational. Now they were back in Skyhold and not lying next to each other night after night under a bush, so close they could feel the body heat radiate from each other and see the wisps of condensed breath waft up between that set of full, slightly moist lips…

No! Enough of that!

The point _was_ there were no circumstances anymore. Thus no foundation. Thus no reason to barge into Dorian’s room seize the mage by the collar and yank him up onto his toes so he could lock those lips onto his own, while he pushed them towards the wall…

Damnit!

Bull knocked his fist against his forehead a few times (although he knew too well his brain wasn’t the organ betraying him) and took another draught from the flask.

Why Dorian? Out of all the people in Skyhold, why did it have to be _Dorian_? Bull had already made himself a good reputation with the barmaids at The Herald’s Rest, a few of the traders, a healer and a guy in the armoury. It wasn’t as though he was a man without options. Why the hell was he stuck on some pompous, obnoxious, haughty ‘vint who took every opportunity to lord his own “superiority” over Bull? The guy was so full of his own hang ups and toxicity that he had to smother it in layers of faux narcissism...

Did Dorian sleep naked?

Bull reeled, wondering where the hell THAT had come from. No! Dorian didn’t sleep naked. Dorian could walk across hot coals and insists that his feet were still chilly.

Still-

No “still”! No “but”! There had been that small window of opportunity where things might have been different, but it had closed now and there was nothing to be done. Going to Dorian now was just going to lead to an awkward rejection and make working with him as part of the Inquisition a misery.

Wasn’t it an awkward misery now?

Bull pinched the bridge of his nose.

That _was_ true. He and Dorian had been hovering around each other for days, acting like skittish animals ever time the other had made the slightest movement. The whole trip home had been nothing but tension.

Cadash had commented on it as they rode back to Skyhold.

_He and Bull were at the end of the convoy trailing along behind Cassandra’s and a wagon full of supplies. The rest of the team members were up ahead chatting away indistinctly. Bull had thought about how funny Cadash and himself probably looked to any spectators – a giant hulking Tal-Vashoth and the tiny dwarven Inquisitor._

_‘You know Bull, I have a confession to make. I may have teamed you and Dorian together deliberately.’_

_‘I guessed something like that.’_

_‘You want to know why?’_

_‘Is it because you a bit of an arsehole?’_

_‘That’s Inquisitor Arsehole, thank you. I had this crazy idea that if the members of my team managed to go through the week without beating each other to death with rocks, then maybe they would have each other’s back in the field. And mine. I was hoping being forced to spend some time with the person on the team they clashed with the most would humanise their partner –or elvanise, dwarvenise, Qunarise... whatever.’_

_‘You ever heard familiarity breeds contempt?’_

_‘Funnily enough I got the idea from you. You were the one who told me I needed to know a few of the faces behind the Inquisition. I thought you all should learn a bit about the people you have to work with.’_

_Bull rolled his neck on his shoulders. ‘Did it work?’_

_‘Mostly… no. Vivienne and Blackwall have learnt some level of civility, but that’s mostly through not talking to each other at all. Solas and Sera have used it as an opportunity to work out how to get under each other’s skins better. And then there’s you and Dorian.’_

_Bull stiffened. ‘What about me and Dorian?’_

_‘I had Cole with me the whole time. You think I don’t know what happened between the two of you in the forest? I had to get him to stop giving me details before it become too graphic.’_

_The Iron Bull didn’t blush. The Iron Bull was a mercenary leader, a former Ben-Hasrath agent and a ravanger. He was a man of war. Men of war do not blush._

_‘Ah… you see-’_

_‘Why in hell did you two think it was good idea to get into a brawl in the middle of a stake-out? You know better than that, Bull. It could have cost us the mission.’_

_‘Oh.’ Bull only realised he was clenching his fist when it relaxed. ‘Yes. I understand. It won’t happen again.’ Cadash seemed satisfied with this because he looped back around to the main conversation again._

_‘The only people who actually managed to find some common ground seem to be Cassandra and Varric. And that’s only through sticking their tongues down each other’s throats.’_

_Cassandra who was riding just in front of them spluttered. ‘For the last time we never-!’_

_‘I was with Cole, Cass! Don’t even try. The kid drew me such a vivid picture that I doubt I’ll be able to sleep for days.’ Cadash turned back to Bull. ‘It’s a shame really. You were the one who made that comment about how alike you and Dorian are in some ways. And you’re not wrong.’_

_‘I know, boss.’_

_‘Then stop giving each other death stares – don’t deny it you’ve been doing it ever since the night of the fight - and sort this out. I’m done being subtle. You’re grown-ass men for Andraste’s sake! Kiss and make up.’_

_Bull assumed Cadash didn’t mean literally._

_‘Yes boss.’_

_‘And I’m not going to lie, Bull.’ Cadash whispered. ‘I also found teaming people up very, very funny.’_

Kiss and make up, eh?

Bull stood up. His head swam for a second or two but then settled. Cadash was right. He would have to go find Dorian and sort out whatever this thing was before it festered. He wasn’t sure whether Dorian was going to be angry or indignant or hand-wave the whole incident away as something to forget or...

Or…

No. Best not to prod that ‘or’ with a stick.

Bull crossed his room, setting the flask down on the bed as he went and opened his door.

Dorian was standing there, hand curled into a fist at head height.

Bull could tell the mage had been trying to gather the guts to knock.

‘Ah-ha.’ Dorian tried to wrangle his cry of surprise into something nonchalant. ‘Good. Bull. I was hoping to find you here.’

‘In my room at two in the morning?’ Bull leant on the doorframe. He hoped the posture looked indifferent and relaxed instead of what it was; finding something to keep him steady. Dorian frowned, obviously disliking being on the back-foot so early in the conversation.

‘Yes. Well. I thought it was important we chat in private, and it seems like the dead of night is the only time we’re not going to be disturbed.’ Dorian looked over his own shoulder towards Cole’s corner, but the kid wasn’t there. He was probably stealing potatoes from the kitchen so he could put them in Cullen’s desk-draw to remind the commander of his Great Aunt Mildred, or something similar. Dorian turned back to Bull.

‘Can I come in?’ He asked. Bull stepped aside and Dorian entered his room. Bull noticed there was a slight unsteadiness to Dorian’s movements, as though he was trying to walk on a boat.

‘You’ve been drinking.’ Bull said as he closed the door behind them. Dorian folded his arms and nodded at the bed. Bull’s eye widened a fraction before he realised Dorian was nodding at the flask sitting on top of Bull’s blankets.

‘So have you.’ Dorian retorted. The mage looked down at Bull’s feet and then back up before letting out a sigh. ‘Look, Bull. I don’t want you to think that- I mean to say – what I want…’ Dorian growled a little and clenched his jaw, his jugular veins standing prominently out from his neck for a second. Bull stood silently, letting Dorian have all the time he needed to form his words.

‘The kiss was good.’ He finally forced out. ‘The kiss, and all the elements surrounding the kiss, were more than good. Ten out of ten. High quality seduction. Would recommend to all my friends.’

Bull grinned at that and nodded. ‘Nice to hear.’

‘And I don’t regret it.’ Dorian continued. ‘As I hope you don’t regret it.’ There was a pause. ‘You don’t count it as a regret, do you Bull?’

Bull had to stop himself from laughing because Dorian looked like such a little boy, with that genuine uncertainty on his face, and if he laughed then Dorian would have never forgiven him.

‘No. _Definitely_ no regrets.’ Dorian’s shoulders slackened and for the first time that night, he smiled.

‘Good. Fantastic. However’, and Dorian’s voice dropped, ‘I think we both know it can’t happen again.’

Bull could feel his lips tighten into a hard line. ‘Oh.’

‘Please understand that the prospect of continuing where we left off is…’ Dorian swallowed, his mouth already dry, his eyes raking over Bull’s chest and shoulders, ‘is very appealing. If circumstances were different-‘ he shook his head as though he found his own word ridiculous. ‘Let’s not kid ourselves, even if we weren’t trying to stop the end of the world, you would still be Tal-Vashoth, I would still be a Tevinter Altus and if anyone outside of Skyhold caught wind of what we have already done we would both be in a great amount of danger from parties that wish us both harm. I’m getting off track. The point is it would be better to nip this in the bud, for both our sakes. Why heap more troubles on top of our current apocalyptic ones just because we couldn’t resist temptation. Neither of us wants to see the other put in harms way.’

Bull took an experimental step closer to Dorian. The mage didn’t move. Good.

‘So if circumstances were different – and by different you mean we weren’t at war with an ancient Magister, demons weren’t falling out of the sky and our own people didn’t want us dead – you wouldn’t say no.’

Dorian cleared his throat. ‘Er, well, you could put it that way, I suppose. However that’s all hypothetical, so it doesn’t really matter.’

‘Are those your only objections?’ Bull crossed his arms, and hid his pleasure as he watched Dorian’s eye’s flick to his flexed bicep. Dorian’s eyes shot back up to Bull’s face and narrowed. Oh, he was _smart_. He knew when people were trying to play him. Dorian raised his chin.

‘I am sure there are numerous others, but those are the most pressing ones. Most people would find them reasonable enough. Why do you ask?’

‘Because the Qunari want me dead anyway,’ Step. ‘The Venatori want you dead anyway.’ Step. ‘If they did find out we’d shagged,’ Step. ‘It’s not like they can kill us _more_.’ Step. ‘There are fewer demon-spewing rifts every day,’ Step, ‘thanks to our fearless leader.’ Step. ‘Which just leaves Corphysus.’

‘Oh, do you have an easy way of dismissing him as a concern too. Because if you have, I’m sure Cadash would love to hear it.’

‘I don’t.’ Bull was now within arm’s reach of Dorian but left enough space between the two of them. The last thing Dorian would tolerate was to be crowded. ‘But there are only two outcomes. If we lose the world ends, and I would hate to die knowing I haven’t seen you naked.’

A laugh escaped from Dorian before he could stop it.

‘On the other hand, we could win.’ Bull reached over and knocked on his wooden bedpost. ‘And if we win that’s the last of your objections gone.’

‘So what are you proposing?’ Dorian asked, and Bull was relieved he hadn’t pointed out the gaping flaws in his logic. Either Dorian was a lot drunker than he looked or he wanted Bull to break down the last of his resistance just as much as Bull wanted to break it.

‘I’m saying that we may as well fuck now and not risk missing out.’

A smile flashed on Dorian’s face, but it was forced down almost instantly.

‘We both know it’s not that simple.’

‘We both know that we want this.’ Bull said, vaguely surprised about how serious he sounded. ‘You wouldn’t have come here tonight if you didn’t want to give this a try. At least once.’

‘I came here to set things straight. I didn’t want things interfering with our work for the Inquisition.’ Dorian snapped. Bull took a step back from Dorian and stretched his hand towards the door.

‘Okay. Great. You’ve done that. Very clear and concise. You’re free to go, then.’

Dorian slumped ever so slightly and looked over at the door. It was painfully obvious Dorian was warring with himself, but Bull just folded his arms again. He wasn’t going to make the decision for Dorian. Bull knew the mage had always struggled with the idea of what he should do and what he wanted. Whatever choice he made, there had to be no question in Dorian’s mind that he was the one who made it.

Dorian heaved a sigh and slowly trudged towards the door, not looking at Bull as he did so. Bull was glad Dorian wasn’t looking in his direction. He was taken aback by how heavily the disappointment sat in his gut. The door creaked open.

Dorian’s foot-steps stopped.

‘Why were you at the door before I knocked?’ Dorian asked. ‘Did you hear me coming up?’

Bull looked up at Dorian. He had one hand on the half-opened door and was looking over his shoulder at Bull. He wore the same intense expression Bull had seen on his face just before their steak-out make-out.

Well, there was no better time to be honest.

‘I was on my way out.’ Bull admitted.

‘Oh, I see.’ Dorian’s voice was sharper. ‘Please don’t let me keep you from whatever blushing waif is awaiting your attentions.’

‘I was going to go looking for you, you idiot.’ Bull said. Dorian tilted his head.

‘Really?’

‘Yep.’ Bull was rubbing his neck He felt like he was naked and that didn’t make sense because he normally enjoyed being naked.

‘I thought you bought all your “liaisons” here.’

‘That because they all come to me. But…’ Bull shifted his weight between his feet. ‘But sometimes if you want something to happen you have to actually get off your arse and make it happen, you know?’

Dorian stood in the doorway for a moment. He looked at Bull. Then the doorway. Then Bull again.

‘Oh blast it all to hell!’ Dorian said as he slammed the door shut and strode up to Bull. Bull barely had time to uncross his arms before Dorian caught him around the neck and pulled him down into a unrestrained kiss.

There was no quick fuck that night either.

There was three. And they weren't quick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry, I got hit by the train of life. I am truly evil and unforgivable, but it is finished and even though the update is not worth the wait I hope you enjoyed it none the less. Thanks for all your kind words and support you beautiful shiny people.


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